Page 55 of Wicked Takeover
Besides, there was other stuff to consider: what might be in the picnic basket, where he was driving them, and what sinful activities constituted the next level. It was a fantasy she and Dante were building before reality crashed in, which it would. Though not tonight.
A sharp rap hit her door.
It was a few minutes past closing. She powered down her computer and smiled.
…
There’d been times today when Dante hadn’t believed this moment would come.
Van Gogh had taken forever to clean up his workstation and split. Before Jasmina had left, she stared at Dante. He figured she expected him to do or say something, but what exactly he didn’t know.
He gave up trying to guess. “What?”
Jasmina gave him a sympathetic look. “I was so sure about…” She bit her lip, then sighed. “Things will get better. Just give it time.”
He hadn’t a clue what she meant but nodded readily, eager to get rid of her and put his plans in motion.
Lauren opened the door to his workstation, her smile luminous, and glanced past him, then to each side. A frown replaced her delight. “Where is it?”
He placed her palm on his fly. His cock twitched appreciatively. “Where it’s always been.”
“Seriously?” She cupped his balls.
Lord, that felt nice. If his boys could sing, they would have serenaded her.
“You’re right.” She ran her thumb over his equipment. “Everything’s where it should be except for the picnic basket.”
She stroked his balls, not letting him think past the tingling or heat coiling in his groin and growing to a dangerous level. Before his lust got the better of him, he pulled her hand away. “It’s in the pickup.”
“What’s inside?”
“Seats. A steering wheel. The dashboard. Floor mats.”
Lauren laughed. “Not the truck.” She got serious. “The basket.”
“You’ll see.”
She made a face. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere if you don’t stop asking questions. Don’t you trust me?”
Her frustration turned to surprise, then she gave him an apologetic look. “Of course I do. You’d never let us get arrested.”
That stopped him. God only knew what she thought he had in the basket. “Damn right. At least not until we’ve had some fun first. Come on.” Ignoring her sudden disquiet, he pulled her outside to his pickup and settled her in the passenger seat. “The belt goes on. I want you safe.”
She buckled up.
“Lift your skirt.”
Lauren stared at him, then the garment. He helped her push the fabric to her upper legs. After climbing in on his side, he pulled up the armrests and started the engine. “Turn toward me and spread your thighs.”
She looked out the windows as if she thought people were staring.
Several couples dressed like tourists wandered down the walk, limp from the heat. A few cars passed.
Dante rested his hand on her thigh.
She moaned softly.
